It’s November, a month that inspires both terror and excitement in writers everywhere. Each November, I reminisce on my first attempt at National Novel Writing
Whenever I tell someone that I studied in St. Andrew’s, they immediately ask whether I golfed while there. (If the person in question is a
Is “Coffee Shop Quirky” a legitimate literary genre? If it isn’t, then it ought to be, as that seems to be my niche. In honor of this most revered holiday, National Coffee Day, I would love to share an old short story of mine that celebrates the creative relationship between draughts and drafts, caffeination and imagination. After all, “A steaming beverage is often the friendliest of muses.”
Badly pronounced words do not trouble me, for it indicates that the speaker is more used to reading and writing than talking. Badly used words, however, trouble me immensely.
I have always struggled with Sundays. I have always loved keeping busy throughout the whole day—even on weekends—but the very structure of Sundays is set
Until sent stepping down the pedals—scalar,My feet were not sure of their footing hereBut then, at once, my most pressing fearBecame naught but a small